


Little Puzzle Pieces

by CadetEyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Lots of Angst, Mentioned Major Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetEyes/pseuds/CadetEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is fairly certain he will never encounter anything in his life that is more unsettling than staring into his own face, and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't him staring back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Puzzle Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> First little foray into the Teen Wolf ficdom. Something that popped into my head while trying to figure out what to write next for another story. This is set during 'Divine Move' Basically a head cannon of what I think could happen during the episode. I say head cannon because, let's face it, Davis really like to mess with us. This might turn into a multi-chapter story, but the chances of that are pretty slim.
> 
> Warning: Mentioned major character death that if you haven't yet seen 'Insatiable' you might not know about (But I am fairly sure that everyone knows about it by now)
> 
> Disclaimer: Everything you see is owned by the evil mind of Jeff Davis and his minions

Stiles is fairly certain he will never encounter anything in his life that is more unsettling than staring into his own face, and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't him staring back.

Everything about this other him just screams  _wrong_. From the tilt of Its head to the darkness in Its eyes, even the way It moves; slowly, silently, calmly, goes against the very nature of the boy It's pretending to be.

There's no wasted movement as the Nogitsune stalks towards him, hands clasped behind Its back, instead of flailing around like they normally do. It's probably one of the first times his body has been still in a very long time. Even now, cold and weak and dying, Stiles can't help but fidget where he sits.

Stiles tries to stand as he-  _It_  gets closer. He might be dying, and he is definitely alone, having been separated from the pack, even Lydia, who hadn't let go of him for more than a few seconds since the night before, the moment they stepped into the school. But he'll be damed if he lets this thing taunt and/or kill him sitting down, even though he doesn't know how much longer he'll be standing for. He has to use the wall to hold himself up, and his legs start shaking, threatening to collapse the moment he tries to use them.

"How pathetic," It says coolly, in a voice thankfully nothing like his own, and tilts his head to the other side. It sends Stiles skin crawling to see his own eyes regarding him like an animal at needs to be put out of its misery.

"Yeah, well, you're not going to be winning any beauty pageants yourself," Stiles replies, hating how his voice shakes with every word.

The Nogitsune laughs, a horrible, bone chilling noise that should never have been heard on this earth. "Always the sarcastic one, aren't you?"

Stiles glares at It, refusing to back down as It smiles at him. Even that one thing is so inherently not _him_. Stiles will admit he has a bit of an mischievous streak, but he didn't think he could ever look so evil. He's grateful for that, because it makes it that much easier to accept that this thing isn't him.

"Always," he replies. "What else do I have to offer the world?"

It  _tutts_  at him, shaking Its head sadly. It is now standing in front of him, close enough that even it the dark hallway, Stiles can see Its eyes. The normal warm brown is so dark they look black, deep soulless voids that remind him of the hopelessness he felt when he was trapped behind them. He involuntarily flinches away, unable to look at them any longer.

"You don't get it, do you?" It asks, sounding amused. "You joke about it, but you actually think it's true."

Stiles refuse to answer, choosing to shrug instead. He's careful not to move too much, lest he offset his precarious balance and tip over. That would be embarrassing.

"Do you really think," It starts, stepping closer to Stiles. "That I wouldn't chose the most important person I could get my hands on? You're important Stiles. I knew that the moment I saw you."

Stiles doesn't answer,  _can't_  answer. He's shared a mind with this thing, he knows how It lies to create chaos.

"Of course, I wouldn't have been able to take over so easily if you weren't so  _damaged_."

It steps away, only a little, grinning like a fox. It knows the effect Its words are having on him. It knows exactly what to say to shatter the broken boy in front of It.

"I've been inside your head. I know your deepest secrets. I know  _everything_."

"You don't know shit," Stiles replies. He tries to sound convincing, he really does. But he knows It's right. There is nothing in his head that It didn't see. Every single corner of his mind was rummaged through by the spirit, which found great joy in using his most painful memories against him.

"I know you blame yourself up for your mothers death." It laughs at the pained noise Stiles makes at Its words, then presses on like nothing happened. "You think that maybe if you weren't such a hyperactive little shit, she could've lived longer. If Mother dearest didn't have to be chasing after you all the time, she would've been healthier. Able to fight off the dementia that made her forget her own husband and son."

Stiles is hunched over himself by the end. His entire body was shaking now, painful spasms that would've sent him crashing to the floor if not for the sheer power of his stubbornness. There are tears in his eyes, but he refuses to let It seem him cry

"Are you finished?" Stiles asks quietly.

"Not quite. There's more and you know it." Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, fights the childish urge to cover his ears and ignore It. He knows exactly what It means by 'more.'

"Every thing that's happened in this quiet little town over the past two years. The werewolves, the Kanima, the Darach. Matt, and Boyd, and Erica, and Heather. Victoria Argent. Even Mr. Harris. You blame yourself for all of it."

Stiles won't let himself cry. He won't. He  _won't_.

"And why shouldn't you? If you hadn't dragged Scott into the woods that night, he wouldn't have been bitten. Derek and Peter and poor little Laura would've worked out their problems without anyone being any wiser, and Beacon Hills would be safe."

Stiles hits the floor hard, finally giving up the battle to stay on his feet. He pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his head, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"And now sweet, brave, Allison is dead too. Died trying to save you. And I don't need to be in your head to know you blame yourself for that, too."

Stiles chokes back a sob. He  _won't_  cry. No matter what It says,  _he will not cry._

"And you're right to. Everything that's happened."

_Shut up_

"Everything that's going to happen."

_Shut UP_

"It's all-"

_No_

"Your-"

_No_

_"Fault!"_

"Shut up!" Stiles looks up at It now, glaring at the look of glee on Its face. He wants to punch It. He doesn't care that It's wearing his face at the moment. If anything, that makes him want to hit It more. It deserves it.  _He_  deserves it.

"You know I'm right." It says in a sing-song voice. "Everyone would be so better off if you weren't around."

"You're wrong," Stiles is gasping now. The pain and panic that's been building up over the last day is finally starting to bubble over, and he can't seem to draw a full breath.

The Nogitsune shrugs at him, turning and causally strolling back down the hallway like It didn't just destroy the boy who shared Its face.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But since I've seem to have a soft spot for you, I'm gong to let you in on a little secret."

It stops at the end of the hall way, turning back to get one last look at Its handiwork.

"There is a way to stop me, and I've actually given you all the little puzzle pieces to figure out how. You just failed to see the whole picture. If only you could, maybe you could save yourself."

"What are you talking about? What pieces? Tell me!"

It tutts at him again, turning with a wave and disappearing around the corner. The last thing Stiles hears of It is Its voice echoing back down the hallway.

_"When is a door not a door?"_


End file.
